


take a step that is new

by aroberuka



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Post-Break Up, Post-Episode: s02e09 The Gate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroberuka/pseuds/aroberuka
Summary: A hospital waiting room isn't the best place to deal with emotional fallout, but you don't always get to choose your moment.





	take a step that is new

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



Once they’re out of the tunnels, the almost manic, we-are-going-to-die energy that kept Steve going just kinda fizzles out. Suddenly he feels about ready to collapse, and with the kids just as out of it as he is it’s very tempting to just sit down and wait it out, but for all he knows there’s still monsters roaming about and he’s already gonna be catching hell for letting a bunch of thirteen-year-olds kidnap him.

After a few tries he manages to get all of the kids into the car. His driving is only slightly worse than Max’s, which is a goddamn miracle given that his head hurts more than ever and he keeps zoning out.

They head back to the Byers’, because where else is there to go? Steve doesn’t even think of Billy Hargrove until he’s pulling over in front of the house. The thought comes with a jolt of fear he is absolutely not ready to deal with, but there’s still four kids in the car he promised to keep safe so he shoulders the bat and steps out first. The whole thing’s pointless anyway. Hargrove is nowhere to be found.

All that’s left to do after that is count time. Eventually the others make it back and Steve figures he can safely clock out and let someone else decide what to do for a while.

  


  


This turns out to be a mistake, because “someone else” decides he needs to go to the hospital.

  


  


“I’m fine,” he tries to tell them, but he barely had any authority when it was just the kids, let alone the kids _and_ Nancy, let alone the kids _and_ Nancy _and_ the Chief looming in the background.

“You don’t look fine,” Nancy says.

“You look like shit,” Dustin helpfully clarifies.

It all goes downhill from there, and before Steve can fully process what’s happening, he’s being marched to Jonathan’s car. Dustin follows along, determined to not be left behind. Steve tries to talk him out of it anyway, because the attention is touching but the kid looks dead on his feet and really, there’s no reason for him to come along, seeing as _Steve doesn’t need to go to the hospital in the first place_. He’s not having much luck until Jonathan, of all people, comes to his rescue:

“Look after Will for me, okay?” he says, reaching around Steve to ruffle the kid’s already pretty ruffled hair.

Dustin stops arguing after that, and, yeah, the fact that _Jonathan Byers_ has more authority over these kids than Steve does is really fucking sad, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

  


  


Hawkins Memorial isn’t usually all that busy, but tonight is pure chaos. Apparently, there’s been an unusual number of animal attacks in the outskirts of town. Steve kinda wants to hurl, hearing that; instead he sinks into the nearest seat and prepares for a long wait. Nancy sits on his right, and for some mind-boggling reason Steve refuses to think about too hard Jonathan doesn’t sit beside her like any reasonable person would, no, he bookends _Steve_ instead ‘cause things aren’t awkward enough already.

And awkward it is. It’s not even the silence, although there’s plenty of that. It’s that everything is still too fresh and too raw for Steve to figure out where the three of them stand. He’s pretty sure he and Jonathan are okay. He wants to think he and Nancy are okay too, or will be, but okay can mean a lot of different things and in the meantime he’s just stuck trying to remember not to lean on Nancy or brush against Nancy or look at Nancy too much, ‘cause that’s not really appropriate anymore, is it, especially when Jonathan is _right there_.

He can still see it, though: the moment where all of it, all the stupid reality of the last few days crashes on Nancy. She goes very still. Her hands start trembling.

“Nance, please don’t,” he whispers, because he doesn’t think any of them can take this right now, not with everything else, but you can’t dam a tidal wave, and Nancy folds forward and, quietly, starts to cry.

Steve puts an arm around her shoulders before he can think it through; only when she leans into him does he remember, _that’s not your place anymore, she has Jonathan now._

When he turns around Jonathan avoids his gaze, but that’s not exactly unusual. He’s looking every bit as uncertain as Steve feels though, and it suddenly dawns on him that, yeah, he’s not the only one who’s having trouble finding his footing here.

He elbows Jonathan and waits for him to look back.

“Group hug?”

“… I’ll pass,” Jonathan says dryly, but his lips twitch in something that almost looks like a smile, and when he finally moves to crouch in front of Nancy and put his hands on her knees he stays within arm’s reach.

  


  


They stay like that for a long time, even after Nancy’s tears have dried. Eventually she starts to untangle herself from them. She looks exhausted. It hurts, seeing her like that; what hurts more is realizing he’s seen it before. It’s making him wonder how many times she went off to cry on her own; how many times she wouldn’t or thought she couldn’t rely on him for comfort.

It’s not a very pleasant thought.

“Sorry,” she says, wiping her cheeks. “Sorry.”

Steve starts to move away, but she grabs his wrist and looks him dead in the eyes.

“No. Steve, _I’m sorry_.”

He doesn’t really know how to answer that, but they’re both waiting for him to say _something_ so he finally settles for:

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Yeah, well, so do I.”

“Yeah. You do.” (He almost smiles at that, before he remembers his split lip and thinks better of it.) “Steve, I don’t want you to disappear from my life like Jonathan did last year,” she says, over Jonathan’s protests that he didn’t _disappear_ , which, yeah, no, he absolutely did. “I want us to be okay. Not now, but someday.”

Her hand is still on his wrist. He decides it’s safe to leave it there for now.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do someday.”

And in that moment he means it, too, even if he’s not sure what okay will ever mean for them, or if he’ll ever stop hurting for everything he wanted them to be. So long as it means he gets to keep this: the three of them in the same room, together, waiting for the world to turn.

  


  


(When he finally sees a doctor he’s told to go home, take some painkillers and try to rest.

He tries very hard not to look too smug about it.)


End file.
